Inebriated

“I don't know . . .” I cringed and muttered—as if I hadn’t done anything, even though my hands were on Hermione's necklace and Kade’s jacket.

I even held those tight.

He commanded, "Put that down right now." He must accuse me of stealing while I do nothing of the sort. If the owner of something cannot take pleasure in it, I have no interest in stealing it.

“This is so similar to my item that, at first, I thought it must be mine.”

“I know you’re trying to gaslight yourself that it didn't happen, Artemis . . .” He said, and now he’s approaching me. He touched my shoulder, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him directly because I was exposed.

He is responsible for my horrible appearance.

He informed me, “But it happened. I fucked her right here in this bed, hoping you saw us. So, you could stop trying to make me love you. Stop cooking for me, contacting me when I’m with my friends, or anything.” He just said some brutally honest things that make me want to pull off my flesh to discov